We thank God for this beautiful day whereupon we have come to celebrate a historic moment inremembrance and prayer.

I want to thank Rev Malaki Timu for his homily and prayers.

I want to thank Governor Lolo Moliga and Lieutenant Governor Mauga for the high honour ofspeaking on this auspicious occasion. It is not usual among governments to have another speak at suchevents. But Samoa and American Samoa are forever bound through our bonds of kinship.

An elder once said that on occasions like this we must search the heights of the heavens (Lagī) and thedepths of our family histories and mythologies (Sa Lefe’ē) in order to gain insight and perspective. Inmy meditations, I searched and was drawn to the words of the Psalmist:

If I forget you,O Jerusalem,let my right hand forgetits skill!Let my tongue stick tothe roof of my mouth,if I do not remember you,if I do not set Jerusalemabove my highest joy!(Psalm 137: 5-6, ESV).

The words – if I do not remember you, if I do not set [you] above my highest joy, [then] let my tonguestick to the roof of my mouth – are sharp and vivid. They paint a harsh message. They are cries of painthat urge us to embed and nurture in our hearts and minds, in our thoughts and deeds, and in those ofour children, the verities of what make us Samoan.

The Psalmist implores that it is when we are in exile that we must be most vigilant not to forget this.We must not forget or discard our mythologies, histories, values, customs and language. For they arewhat gives us our identity and colour.

From where or from whom would we find the guidance not to forget?

From God. For God is the source of all knowledge and identity. It is from God that the message of thesoul is brought alive by the tongue. The Psalmist reminds us that it is through our languages – ourSamoan, English, Hebrew languages – that God celebrates with us as unique cultures and us with Him.It is through our mother tongues that we come to know and retain the heights and depths of who we areas unique peoples.

How do we know this? We know this through the beauty of language, and through the language offaith. God spoke to Adam and Eve, to Abraham and to Moses. And He spoke to them in their mothertongue. He asked them to have faith despite all that was going on around them. God knew that it wasthrough Hebrew that they would remember Jerusalem and hold steadfast to their Jewish faith.

The question of Jerusalem is also a question of boundaries. The boundaries of land. In Old Samoa landwas both functional and sacred. It too was a gift from God. Its boundaries were both material andsacred, and reflected history and culture. In Old Samoa, Samoa extended from Saua, Manu’a, in theeast to Analega, Falealupo, in the west. Hence the saying: “O Samoa e pau mai Saua, pau maiAnalega”.

The ritual of planting the placenta and umbilical cord into the land underlined a belief in a sharedgenealogy or kinship between land and people. The word for land in Samoan is fanua. Fanua is also theword for placenta. Both nurture the birth of life. The continuation of these rituals are testaments to thephilosophical heights and depths of our faasamoa (Samoan culture and values), our faasinomaga(Samoan identities), our tuā’oi (cultural boundaries) and tofi (cultural roles, designations andresponsibilities).

The impact of climatic changes on our Samoan nations evidence a breakdown in our guardianshipresponsibilities over our kin, over what is tapu, over what is our faasinomaga and our tuā’oi withnature. We have forgotten our Jerusalem.

In the religion of our forebears there was the “Sa o Manuvao”, or ritual performances acknowledgingthe sacred boundaries between people and the forest, especially with the God of the Forest (Manuvao).In days of old ritual deference was paid to Manuvao before a tree could be cut, or before lands could becleared. These tapu boundaries have today been both sadly forgotten and rejected.

A breakdown in the relationship between people and nature is further emphasised when we considerchanges to our fishing culture and the loss of traditional fishing knowledge and its associated tapu. Weused to know when the palolo would rise by reading the appearances of the moon. When they rose wewould ritually welcome them by chanting: “Fanau mai, fanau mai” (Be born; Be born). Our ancestorsknew that in the act of rising the palolo were also birthing (laying eggs). This was evidenced by thelanguaging of their palolo chants.

But how did our ancestors know when the palolo would rise or that the palolo were actually givingbirth? They knew through careful and active observation. They knew by watching and counting lunarmovements and noticing how seasonal clocks worked in the natural world. They knew because theytook time to converse with nature and with God. There is an old adage which says: “E le laa le uto i lemaene (as the floater cannot intrude on the function of the sinker), e le sopo fo’i le sami i le lau’ele’ele(the sea cannot encroach on the boundaries of the land)”. The adage reminds us that in everything thereare sacred boundaries. The biggest problem facing our families, villages, churches and governmentstoday is the crossing of boundaries or sopotuā’oi.

Sopotuā’oi is where there has been a crossing or breach of the boundaries in a relationship or covenant(ua sopo le tuā’oi). In the situation where children, especially adult children, impose great disrespecttowards their parents or treat them badly, elders believed that misfortune or malady, sometimesdescribed as the curse of parents or mala matuā, would befall them. By the same token those childrenwho show genuine care and respect for their parents would receive blessings or faamanuiaga. With thebreakdown or loss of traditional values and beliefs, sopotuā’oi is spreading and is evidenced by ourhorrendous child abuse and domestic violence statistics. Our church, government and non-governmentsectors are also not above the reach of sopotuā’oi.

New communication technologies, such as the internet and facebook, have taken our communities bystorm. Traditional methods for protecting the va and tuā’oi in this social media space seem useless. Thelanguaging and courtesies of Pasia and Lofipo, distinguished orators in old Samoa, celebrated for theirwit, style, manners and wisdom, represent a different, seemingly irrelevant, world.

I remember how my mentors described how Lofipo of Saleaula in a debate at the historic Malae oTi’afau in Mulinuu, during the Mau period, reciprocated with Pasia of Safotulafai through diminutives.They were by now close friends and had deep respect for the skill and integrity of the other. They weretwo of Samoa’s most preeminent orators by this time.

Lofipo, the younger of the two, begins their debate by saying: “Sia, you go ahead and speak”. Pasiaresponds: “Po, no you go ahead, I will defer to you”. They would to and fro like this for some timebefore Pasia eventually agreed to speak. They modelled the height and depths of our faatau (oratoricaldebate) culture. When one compares the art and languaging of the faatau of Pasia and Lofipo with thefaatau of today, one cannot help but yearn for the civility of yesteryears.

Remembering Jerusalem involves more than just pining for what was. It also involves taking a stanceon retaining what should continue to be. And we would retain this because we agree that if we lose itwe lose a fundamental part of our being Samoan.

One of the main responsibilities of elders, especially preeminent elders, is to role model not only howto live but also how to die. In Old Samoa, there was always a concern for the legacy one leaves behind.Dying was considered as much an art form as living.

The family and village would normally build a house a little bit away from the village compound whenit was clear that their preeminent chief or elder was nearing their time. People were specially selectedto attend to their needs. Setting them up in their own space in this way recognised the indignity ofkeeping them in the public glare. It helped them to retain their mana and dignity during the dyingprocess.

When Soifuā Gese was dying, he instructed the boys of his family to build his coffin. When it wasfinished it was placed on a low-lying table in the middle of his house. Soifuā would sit in the front ofhis house and eye people passing by. When he saw someone he thought was worth sharingconversation and tea with, he would invite them in for a meal. After their meal or tea he would thentake them on a tour of his house, including an inspection of his coffin. When they reached his coffin, hewould say, “Isn’t it a lovely coffin?” Then he would open the coffin and lie himself in it. “See”, hewould say, “It’s a perfect fit, isn’t it? I look regal, don’t I?”

It took a while before Soifuā actually died, but by the time he did, his invitations to tea had becomequite famous throughout Samoa. Soifuā’s story reminds of the saying: “Ia e iloa ola, ia e ola oti” – Mayyou know how to live, may you know how to die.

I end by returning to the words of the Psalmist.

If I forget you,O Jerusalem,let my right hand forgetits skill!Let my tongue stick tothe roof of my mouth,if I do not remember you,if I do not set Jerusalemabove my highest joy!(Psalm 137: 5-6, ESV).

Samoa is bounded in the east in Saua and bounded in the west in Analega. Those are the boundaries ofour faasamoa, our faasinomaga, tofi and tuā’oi. Those are the boundaries of our heritage, language,history and mythologies. As our ancestors have said: I am you and you are me, for we were born fromthe same womb, we share the same inheritance, speak the same language, and live and die in search ofthe same destinies.

If we forget you Samoa let our right hands forget their skills, let our tongues stick to the roofs of ourmouths. Today we remember you and honour you.